Supposedly, Hemingway once wrote a story in six words: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." I'm no Hemingway, but I dig the idea of ultra-short stories.
I write them from time to time. You might like some. You can find me on Twitter at @dcwllms.
A glass bottle of Coca-Cola sat on a tiny wooden table. It had to be glass because, somehow, it made the soda taste better. The humidity of the afternoon had covered its entirety in condensation. Slowly, a single drop slid down the length of the bottle.